


The Tattoo

by Miss_Webb



Series: Tattoo's and Soulmates [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Human Scott McCall, M/M, Oblivious Stiles, Other, Soul Bond, Tattoo Artist Derek, Tattoos, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 13:46:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8251282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Webb/pseuds/Miss_Webb
Summary: I do not own the artwork/ pictures used in this story.
 
Sorry if you get a notification for this, I'm going back and doing editing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the artwork/ pictures used in this story.
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry if you get a notification for this, I'm going back and doing editing.

 

Stiles just woke up thinking about it, it had come to him in his dream. He didn’t remember how, or what happened, but the image burned into his brain. He couldn’t help it once it was there, his brain took hold of itself and it bothered him all day long. He drew it on the corners of his papers, on napkins, in outlines on his own skin in pen. It came out any and every way it could. Even when Scott was talking to him, he would just zone out thinking about it.

“Dude..? Stiles? Hello?” Scott said waving his hand in front of Stiles' face causing Stiles to snap back to the present.

“Sorry... what were you saying?” He blinked a few times and tried to act interested in what Scott had to say. The last thing he remembered was something about Allison, and Scott always had something to say about Allison.

“I was asking you why you have been so quiet today. It’s unlike you.” Which is very true. Stiles and silence don't tend to get on with each other.

“I have just had something stuck in my head…" Stiles began, the image flashing in his mind again, before he sighed, bolting up from the table. "You know what… come on.” Stiles grabbed his books and moves like a man on a mission.

“You haven’t even eaten anything though!” Scott said standing up grabbing his lunch box quickly and struggled to follow after Stiles' quick pace.

Stiles was done thinking about it. It was seriously going to drive him crazy. Crazier than one of Mr. Harris' hour-long lectures during detention. He needed to get this out of his head, and he only could think of one way to do it.

He needed to get a tattoo.

So they went to the only tattoo parlor in Beacon Hills. Hales Tattoo Temple Stiles had passed it hundreds of times but never went in. Why would he? He was only sixteen, besides his dad would kill him for just looking at that place too long. But he needed a tattoo, he needed this tattoo. It was like a catchy song stuck in his head, only he couldn’t sing an image.

“Stiles, it’s the middle of the day, we can’t just leave school!” Scott said hurrying after him. Stiles sighed, ignoring it because the school was still going to be here an hour from now, his sanity may not be.

“You can stay if you want I’m going.” Stiles huffed, opening the door to his jeep and getting in. Scott showed signs of hesitation, and Stiles wasn’t going to wait around for him. He couldn’t anymore, so he drove off, leaving Scott behind in the parking lot.

The tattoo parlor was only fifteen minutes away from the school, and Stiles may or may not have broken one or two speeding limits to make it ten minutes.

He parked his Jeep in the front of the building and quickly walked in. There was a whole new atmosphere. Beautiful elaborate drawings on the walls, huge murals. Even the floor had drawings, it must have been designed into the tiles and polished somehow to prevent fading. It was amazing. Stiles was mesmerized. He took a moment to appreciate every single one. It was more than a tattoo place they had clothes, necklaces, bracelets, there seemed to be a recurring nature theme.

Stiles loved it.

Stiles finally walked up to the counter, and as if on cue, a Greek god walked out from a back room. Stiles couldn’t help but stare at his face, it looked handcrafted. Something you would see on t.v. because it was perfect. Stiles had to make sure his jaw didn’t hit the floor when he looked. It was a couple of minutes of silence before the Greek god unleashed his amazing voice.

“Can I help you?” He said, lifting his eyebrows with the question, and it took Stiles a moment to remember how to breathe.

“I um… I’d like a tattoo.” Stiles said clearing his throat. The guy nodded, and bent down and grabbed a few items.

“Okay, do you have anything in mind that you want, or do you want to pick something out from the books?

“I um, I have an um-I have an image in my mind.” Stiles said, getting a little fidgety.

“Okay, what is it?”

“I um, I don’t know how to explain it.” Stiles said. “I can draw it, though, if you have a piece of paper and pencil.”

“Okay.” The man bent down again, and Stiles had to close his eyes to stop himself from looking at the man’s ass. The man came back up with a sketchbook and a sketching pencil. Stiles didn’t know why he was surprised how that was so assessable. It was a tattoo parlor, of course, they would have stuff like this at the ready. Stiles quickly started to draw, and suddenly he remembered how he had been terrible at drawing until today, until this image. His hands shuck a bit, and he felt a little under pressure.

“It’s okay, just take a deep breath and draw it.” The man said, and Stiles really hoped his nervousness wasn’t that obvious. But he did as the man said, he took a deep breath and he drew it.

 

 

 

“There." Stiles said finally. "Something like that, I think...” He turned his head sideways looking down at the picture. It's not exactly what he saw, but it was really close. He's almost proud of the little photo. He's barely good at drawing stick figures. Maybe it's been his lack of patience. His slight nervousness bleeds through his voice, but he's not actually sure why he's nervous. Maybe because his dad is going to kill him after this and he doesn't trust Scott to delete his hard drive before his dad gets to it. The man takes the paper and looks at it for a moment before looking at Stiles suspiciously.

"Have you seen something like this before?" The man asks, and Stiles shakes his head because no, he hasn't really. Not before his dream anyway. Although technically that can't be true can it. Since dreams are made up of your subconscious and what you've seen. Or at least that's what he learned from his science teacher, and he likes his science teacher. "Where did you get the idea to draw it?”

“In a dream, and it’s been stuck in my head since this morning,” Stiles said with a shrug. The man looked at him for a moment, as if he was thinking something important to himself. Stiles felt weird under the man’s gaze but eventually, it softened.

“You know, I don’t advise rush of judgment tattoos. Or impulse ones either, it’s how you end up with regrets.”

“No… no no no. I promise it’s not rush of judgment I swear. I really need this tattoo.”

“Well, why don’t you come back tomorrow and we will talk about it then.”

“No, please, I need it! You don’t understand, I will actually go crazy.”

The man crossed his arms and leveled Stiles with an unimpressed glare.

“Come on, isn’t it like illegal to deny me service or something?” Stiles said, grasping at straws at this point but he couldn't deny the sudden panic building in his chest at the thought of not getting this tattoo.

“While it is true I can’t deny you service based on bias; which I am not doing, by the way, I do have a right to maintain the integrity and require that you make an appointment before I give you service. But let’s skip over all of that, and move over to the fact that you look too young to be in here, and I can ask for your ID, which I am betting it will say you are under eighteen, in which I legally will have to tell you to get a parent or guardian to come in here and sign a paper saying they agree to you getting a tattoo.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and pouted, and yeah, probably wasn't helping his case, but pouting felt right at the moment. The man raised his eyebrows as if daring Stiles to say something about it.

“Come on, please? I really need this, you don’t understand.” Stiles pleaded as if his life depended on it. The man sighed.

“Why does this mean so much to you? You had a dream about it. By tomorrow you are going to forget what it even looks like.”

“You don’t understand I won’t. It’s driving me crazy! I can’t stop thinking about it.” Stiles said, sitting on a chair next to the counter and sighs. This was starting to stress him out. It had only been one day and he already was stressed enough to pull his hair out.

The man sat in thought for a moment, and something shifted in his eyes, and Stiles knew he was winning him over. A burst of relief ran through him as the man began to speak.

“Fine. Since it’s so important to you, I will do it. But don’t come back here with your parents and have them yell at me about letting you get this.” The man said, walking from behind the counter to the back of the store to the chairs and ink equipment was. Stiles got up and followed him, counting his lucky stars.

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Okay then, have a seat, and get comfortable.”

Stiles did just that, he sat down and fidgeted a bit until he was comfortable. The man began pulling out various tools and asked Stiles some questions.

“Where do you want it?” He asked. Stiles looked down at himself and thought for a moment. He looked at his forearm and decided that’s where he wanted it.

“Here.” He pointed.

“Okay.” The man grabbed a pencil and outlined where Stiles tattoo would be. Stiles wondered how the man had already committed that one sketch to memory to almost draw it exactly as he had. Only this guys was obviously better. “Does that look good? Or do you want it somewhere else, or facing another way?” Stiles looked at this, and he considered it seriously.

“That is perfect,” Stiles said because just having it drawn like that already felt so satisfying.

“What color do you want it? We have all colors, and if I don’t have it I can mix it, and then there are the options of tie-dyeing kind of look, a mix, and a rainbow effect, and solid.”

“Hey! That's it! The tattoo from my dream!" Stiles was practically screaming with excitement and confusion running through him. He reached for the guy's arm, turning it up to get a better look, and yeah, this is it. No doubt about it. That’s why Stiles though he remembered swirls of some kind, it was much better than his crude drawing, but this was it for sure. Same spot, same size.

Stiles looked up at the man’s face and suddenly it seemed familiar. Stiles had had a dream about this man last night. There was not a single doubt in his mind. It wasn't just about the tattoo but the person it was attached to. What are the odds?

“You’re sure?” The man asked.

“Yes, I am one-hundred percent sure, this exactly it from my dream I swear!” Stiles nodded frantically, now partially freaking out, and the other half of him so happy he found out why that was stuck in his head. It’s like finding out the name of the song stuck in your head, somehow helps it go away.

The man looked suddenly uncomfortable and stood up. “I just remembered I have something important to do today- like right now actually. You should go, and maybe come back tomorrow, okay? Good.” He said, not giving Stiles a chance to talk. He helped Stiles up and out of the chair, and all but pushed him to the door.

“Oh. Um okay, I guess. Then I will see you tomorrow.” Stiles said unsure of what just happened. But he went with the flow. He opened the door and began to step out, but stopped halfway and turned back. “My name is Stiles by the way.” Stiles said, the man stopped and looked at him.

“My name is Derek.”

Then Stiles left the building, and got into his jeep, and drove back to the school. Very confused about what had just happened. But feeling much better than he had all day.

 


End file.
